The area outside Verilia was devastated. Laurel cursed in every language she knew as the unmistakable remnants of a beast wave spread out below the planes as they approached the landing strips. It was months too early for the next one but life didn’t always follow careful calculations. The roiling in her gut was kept in check by the fact that the city itself seemed intact, even with the churned up surroundings. She could make out wooden structures and uniformed soldiers swarming through a labyrinth of trenches, which calmed her further. The city had had some level of warning if they had time to prepare. The realization was enough to tamp down the urge to jump out of the plane and go to the sect house directly. She did flare her mana enough to give Martin a head’s up that they’d returned, but without an active crisis she would do the polite-sectmaster routine and wait to report in at Fort Sarken before heading home.

  After checking in with the officers on duty, and committing to a much longer debriefing the following day, Laurel hailed a cab for her, Rebecca, and Leander to make their way home. They were barely over the threshold when something large tackled her to the ground. A well-aimed gust of wind and her own leverage flipped Martin off onto his back as the rest of the sect stampeded into the entryway. Shouting of so many voices made listening to anything impossible, so Laurel basked in the hugs and the joy of her family welcoming them home. She lingered with Adam and Annette, who both looked far too haggard for cultivators of their level. When they all migrated upstairs, she held Martin back. It wasn’t just Adam and Annette looking tired. The members had progressed well, several of them at the initiate level, and all were acting jumpy. At least three had flinched when the door slammed closed.

  “How bad was it?” she murmured the question quietly enough that only Martin could hear.

  “Horde wave. Would have been easy if the city had traditional defenses. None of ours died. Everyone’s still a bit on edge though.”

  “Having everyone home will help, I hope. The kids could use some downtime themselves. More fights than I was expecting and an inverted Core.” They entered the lounge to find everyone dragging around the couches and chairs to a rough semicircle in the center. It had the speed of a practiced ritual and Laurel couldn’t help but smile at the signs of a true sect maturing around her, rather than a collection of individuals held together by circumstance and nothing more.

  Leander and Rebecca were already holding court, while some of the newer initiates Laurel wasn’t as familiar with were brewing tea on the side. Completing the perfect reception, Esther rolled in a cart full of pastries and snacks. Laurel loaded up a plate and made her way to the center.

  “A lot’s gone on both here and on our adventure. But first things first, we have presents!” Laurel proceeded to empty her storage of the bits and bobs they had picked up on their tour. Besides, of course, the plants that Leander had faithfully carted home. The orchid went to Nicholas Mercer, their gardener and all around handyman, while the as yet unidentified mana-infused plant from the Caer’Listar valley was presented to Esther with all due pomp. Martin got a painting from Jaranda, while Adam was easily appeased with a few copies of Oro’s clan’s personal histories. She had been a bit concerned about giving the man more work as a gift, but he had to be forcibly kept in the group instead of running off to begin reading. He had certainly liked it more than the ink sac she presented from the octopus she fought beneath the ocean. Annette recieved a bolt of painstakingly embroidered fabric, finer than what most nobles would wear. Along with an invitation from Oro to meditate in the dungeon in Araxis if she still wanted to pursue a spatial affinity.

  The others mostly ended up with extra cultivation resources, books, or interesting bits they had picked up from wherever they ended up. Carved hairpins or semi-precious jewelry. Mana-infused rocks or bits and pieces of coral. Perfume and chocolate and piles and piles of books, reference material and fiction and poetry from around the world. When everyone had calmed down Laurel sat back and let Rebecca and Leander step forward to describe the trip. Everyone was enthralled except Cooper and Eric, who were sitting in the back and holding a side conversation. When a twist of mana brought their words to her ears it took everything she had to maintain a straight face. Everyone forgot to bring something back. Once.

  ********

  The sect officers retired to Martin’s private office after a while, leaving the main lounge for the younger members to continue their reunion. Calls of the “grown-ups going to bed early” only made her cringe slightly in remembering what teenagers and young adults were like when not under extreme stress. T

  he room was transformed since Laurel had left. A few paintings lined the walls, mostly abstract works in bold colors, and one meticulous landscape of Verilia itself. The plain but functional furniture Annette had commissioned was still present, but with a few more ornate pieces that told her Martin was still crafting his sanctuary. They settled in with a bottle of Meristan wine and the remainders of the snack tray.

  “Tell me,” Laurel said. “I saw enough to make some guesses but it seems like we’re barely holding together.”

  The other three exchanged glances, but it was Annette who responded. “We have partnered with other local cultivators to create a new guild, to further leverage our time and resources to greatest effect.” Laurel had known the woman long enough to recognize the perfect posture and diction as signs of stress. “That effort was partially interrupted by a beast wave in the city.

  “Recruitment and training has stabilized. We now have three dozen members, including those in this room, the majority of which are at the novice or initiate stage.

  “Oh, make that 37. After George helped out during the wave I think he should get a formal invite.”

  Nothing showed Annette's growing experience dealing with Martin more than the utter lack of reaction at the interruption. “The initiates have begun crafting small household items, the profits from which are nearly, but not yet quite enough to cover the sect’s expenses. This is in part due to our assistance in the establishment of the guild.”

  “Relationships with the city and palace representatives are mostly positive. Our continued assistance in defending the city has played a large role in continued goodwill.

  “Relationships with other guilds have been more tumultuous in the weeks since we have officially signed onto the Magic Guild, due to the restrictions and protections for inter-guild dealings. The Scholars and some of the Merchants are still actively lobbying against us.” Annette’s report continued without pause for the better part of an hour and the rest of the wine.

  Laurel could be nothing but proud of everything Annette described. Finding hidden realms, recruiting independent cultivators as allies, battling for the safety of the city. Even during her own travels, she’d been constantly worried about the rest of the sect. It had been a far cry from when she would galavant around the world with her friends for years at a time, searching for treasure or cultivation resources. But the warm feeling in her chest that had started from when the planes landed told her she might be on the right track after all.

  “So if Annette was doing all that, what have you two layabouts been up to for half a year?”

  That broke any remaining formality. Even Annette let out a small snort. They spent another hour listening to Laurel’s slightly less overblown account of her adventures. News of their new allies to the south and east was met with predictable reactions. Curiosity from Martin, worry and searching for advantage from Annette, and hyper focus on the history from Adam. It was the discussion of the fight in Caer’Listar that caused the most concern.

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  “So these people are still around.” Martin’s normal smiles dropped and the hardened warrior flashed out for a moment.

  *******

  Leander dutifully ate his oatmeal. The dried persimmons mixed in added just enough sweetness. Some of the newer novices had grumbled a bit about not liking oatmeal days but he couldn’t understand why. Any day that started with breakfast at all was a good one in his books. He snuck a glance at where some of his sectmates were sitting across and slightly further towards the head of the table from him and Rebecca. The dark-haired girl, Gabrielle, turned to meet his eyes and he hastily looked back down. Beside him, he could feel Rebecca sit up straighter, and even turn so she was fully facing the others. Leander kept his head down. It hadn’t been long enough for him to forget the novelty of a guaranteed breakfast and he wasn’t missing it for anything.

  Tension continued to ramp up and conversation dwindled as breakfast came to a close. Not entirely clear on the reason, he followed everyone to their outdoor training area for morning combat lessons and cultivation practice. They all tramped over to where Martin was standing and he led them through a complex series of slow fighting forms. A cultivator had to be prepared, so Leander had been practicing each morning on their trip. But having the whole group go through them together was sort of nice. He broke them into smaller groups after they finished for light sparring. As he made to walk over to Rebecca, Leander found himself standing across from Cooper instead, after some gentle redirection by Martin. They hadn’t gotten a chance to know each other that well yet so all Leander could remember was that Cooper’s family was rich, and he came to the sect after studying at the university.

  They tested each other with some light blows to start. Just making sure the other was paying attention. The intensity increased as they went. Leander had plenty of recent experience to draw from and started darting in under Cooper’s guard. He’d been training for months, he could do this. The taller man in turn worked to keep him at bay. Their movements got faster and faster. Leander began infusing his limbs with mana for bursts of speed and power. His senses told him Cooper was doing the same. Faster and faster, with harder strikes, until a scream tore across the field.

  “You did that on purpose.” Gabrielle was screeching at Rebecca.

  “We’re fighting, what do you expect?” Rebecca said. The young woman’s face was slowly turning red in a way Leander realized meant trouble. He sidled over to where Flint was sitting and let the monkey scamper up onto his shoulders.

  “That doesn’t mean you don’t watch what you’re doing!”

  Leander crept further to the side and saw Gabrielle holding her elbow at an awkward angle. Rebecca’s staff was in her hand and looking around he realized many of the others had started using weapons.

  He looked to Martin, expecting their combat instructor to intervene in some way. Instead he watched as Martin turned to Laurel and began a side conversation. Laurel had a hand in front of her mouth and he could see the corners of her lips tipped up in a smile. Martin’s lips were pressed together like he was holding something in.

  The girls were still sniping back and forth, the comments getting further from their sparring and into personal territory. He looked around frantically for a way to stop the argument, but almost everyone was standing around watching.

  “And it’s no wonder you have such bad aim. While you were off getting a new pet, the rest of us were doing actual work and defending the city.”

  Wait a minute, they weren’t just looking for pets. They fought enemy cultivators! They found treasures to defend the city! They saved the villagers! They even survived the dungeon! Cultivators were supposed to go out in the world and challenge themselves and that’s exactly what they’d done. All the others had to do was wander around and talk to people, then follow instructions. With guns! He had to fight off dangerous spirit beasts with a dagger. Gabrielle was out of line.

  “If you’re so good at this, why weren’t you dodging better? Any idiot can shoot a gun but actual fighting takes more finesse.”

  “Any idiot can wave a stick around too! Maybe if you were better at it, you wouldn’t have lost half your hand!”

  He didn’t realize he was moving towards them until hands clamped down on his shoulders. He turned around to see Adam shaking his head. Mana was swirling around the girls and Leander was sure he was about to see blood. Before they could launch themselves at each other, all the mana that was surging came to a halt. The entire world felt like it was holding its breath. Laurel appeared between the two girls, no one having noticed her move. Gusts of wind forced them both back.

  “That’s enough. Everyone’s going to walk away and cool down. After that, if you need to fight, you do so in a formal challenge, according to the sect charter you both swore to uphold. I’m not going to micromanage your relationships. But you will figure out a way to coexist.”

  Laurel’s announcement sent them all off in different directions. Leander trotted off after Rebecca, Flint clinging to his back. They caught up to her when she was already half a kilometer towards the plains outside of the city.

  She was storming through the wreckage of the battle that was slowly being cleaned up. Teams of soldiers filled in trenches and broke down the temporary towers as they walked by. Pillars had apparently ringed the city acting as a partial shield, but they had crumbled once the magic gave out. Leander couldn’t quite understand what had just happened. But he could see his friend was upset. He was upset. They had been doing important work for the sect but the others didn’t seem to agree. Even Laurel told them the dangers they faced were more than normal cultivators who’d just opened their channels would be expected to deal with. They walked in silence until they were past the trenches.

  “That bitch!”

  The exclamation caused Leander to jump. Flint let out some concerned hooting noises and clung harder to his shoulders.

  “How dare she. Just, ugh.”

  Leander listened as she ranted about arrogant idiots who were barely members of the sect compared to them. After a quarter hour she reached some sort of stopping point and sat on a nearby rock. Flint scampered across to Rebecca’s lap. The little monkey seemed to get smarter every time Leander looked. He could definitely tell Rebecca needed comforting. Leander knew how upset she was by her injury. Having it thrown back in her face was enough to have him ready to fight, let alone her.

  Another bout of silence, then Rebecca seemed to change tack. “You know, Laurel said we could do formal challenges. Have you read that part of the sect regulations?”

  Leander shook his head. True cultivators were less concerned with that type of infighting when they could protect the sect as a whole. On the other hand, true cultivators didn’t let people hurt their friends. Would the sect even allow challenges if they weren’t a good way to deal with these things? Laurel had been telling them over the past months that conflict was often the best way for cultivators to grow. Challenging the others would show them how far Leander and Rebecca had grown, out in the world.

  *********

  George watched the two children storm off while everyone else either spread out or made their way back into the sect house. He trailed at the back of the group, as he usually did. It had only been a few weeks since the attack on the city, when Martin decided he could join the sect for real. The others still looked at him sideways when they thought he wouldn’t notice. It was fine, he didn’t really blame them. Rumors of conflict with Laskar had never been more common, and they stoked the flames of suspicion everywhere he went. Being a former member of their secret magic police didn’t endear him to the rest of the sect. He was a few years older than most of the newer members and a few years (or quite a bit more than a few years) younger than the officers. At least he wasn’t part of whatever spat the teeneagers had started.

  He was last into the foyer and wasn’t paying attention when something slammed him into the wall, and a hand gripped his throat and began to squeeze. He tried to fight but it was like all the air in the world was holding him in place. Black spots started closing in from the corners of his eyes.

  “L, that’s enough.”

  The hand around his throat loosened enough for a shaky breath, but he still couldn’t move his limbs. His eyes refocused and he saw Laurel, their sectmaster, the woman who could fight off city-destroying monsters, staring at him with wild eyes.

  “Martin tells me you’re reformed, that you ran away from Laskar because of what they were doing to the magic users there.

  “The Eternal Archive doesn’t punish members for their pasts. When they’ve proven themselves enough to join the sect, we don’t look back. But how am I supposed to do that when a member of the organization that killed one of my students is standing in front of me?”

  The terror that gripped his body was absolute. He was about to die. Stars above, he’d seen eyes like that before. She could crush his throat and watch him suffocate without any effort at all. He forced himself to keep his eyes open, he’d face death as it came.

  Without warning the pressure is gone. He took deep, gasping breaths as he slid down to the floor. Laurel and Martin had a conversation in speaking glances. Martin was remarkably unconcerned, leaning against the wall and munching on an apple.

  “Ahem.”

  He looked back up at Laurel, who was once again watching him with unblinking focus. How did someone that small loom so effectively?

  “I apologize, George, that was unpardonable of me. I lost someone to the magehunters and that pain is closer to the surface than I realized. That does not give me the right to lash out at you. I hope you will allow me to make amends.”

  George was feeling too many things at once. Relief after such a spike in fear was making his head swim. At the same time, he could remember all too well the disgust he felt for his actions, and the danger he was in if he hadn’t followed orders. It was all he could do to mumble an assent. Laurel returned it with a deep bow, and then marched out of the room and deeper into the sect.

  “You know,” Martin started and George flinched, having forgotten he was still in the room, “I think that went pretty well all things considered.”

  George let his head fall back against the wall. This was a good place to spend the rest of the day.